Guidelines
by yams are delicious
Summary: The last thing Len expects when he signs up for a job at the rich Kagamine mansion is that Meiko Kagamine expects him to be her cousin's, well, knight. But how bad can it be, staying in a house fit for kings? /LenxRin/


**okay the file manager was being stupid with me. but oh well it works now. i need a break from uploading my crappy nano which is 2 years old.**

**once every year, i write blechy chick lit and then i go back to writing my dark crap with the gross stuff. BUT EVERY YEAR I WRITE CHICK LIT ONCE. the one last year didn't get past 2 chapters. so here's my endeavor for this year. i started it ummm maybe 2 or 3 months ago? old stuff is my favorite thing to upload, it seems. but at least this one is like decently recent. i'm on the third chapter in writing right now.**

**so this story has a really big premise sort of thing. i decided to write a story that's like a kind i've never wrote before. first of all, i always write in present tense, so i decided to write in past tense. secondly, i prefer first person past tense, so i tried third person past tense. and lastly, it's not particularly dark and gory. i couldn't think of a prompt, though, so i used a random word generator. and i got what's the title a.k.a guidelines.**

**happy trick or treating or whatever**

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><p><em>Click, click, click.<em>

Her shoes clicked on the ground, four-inch stilettos ticking a constant time. Her slender fingers stroked the thin wine glass perched between her thumb and fingers.

"Well?" she asked, brownish-red eyes boring into him. _Click, click, click._ Somehow, the repetitive tones of her glossy red heels only made him more nervous. He swallowed hard, wishing the jittery pounding in his head would go away, wishing that he had enough verve so that his hands would stop fiddling with the material of his jacket.

Attempting to focus on making a good impression, he tried to draw himself up into a more impressive stature. No such luck. He was still five foot one. His lips seemed awfully dry, so he licked them. His palms seemed awfully sweaty, so he wiped them on his shorts.

"_Well?_" She spoke again, ruby-red lips parting to reveal perfect white teeth. She tossed her bob of creamy brunette hair, watched him with an almost condescending glare with her red eyes. He was sure he could detect impatience and contempt in her voice.

"Well," he replied. His voice came out as some sort of embarrassing squeak. For perhaps the hundredth time since coming to this interview, he wished he was the type who left more of an impression on people. Or rather, a _positive_ impression on people. His scrawny body type, short stature, and embarrassingly high-pitched voice suddenly seemed at least two hundred times worse in front of the overbearing woman.

"Um, you asked me to come?" It was the only thing he could think of to say, but by the time the words left his lips, they seemed awkward and _rude._ The woman raised a thin eyebrow, no doubt plucked to perfection, and then she began to smile. No, grin. _No, smirk._

"Uh-huh. I can see the spunk in you now. Uh-huh." She seemed to be observing him now, an amused smile pulled across her lips. He swallowed again. What spunk? Was spunk a good thing or a bad thing? What was she talking about? Did he do something wrong? What-

"_That's it!"_ the woman shouted, and he was instantly shocked out of his err, _minor_ panic attack. "_You're hired!"_

He visibly flinched, despite _wanting_ the job. Desperately. But this woman was too loud. Too random. Too _strange._

"You want to know why, don't you!" The woman began clicking her heels faster on the marble floor, faster than he knew it possible for one wearing such stilettos. _Clickclickclickclickclick._ What an eccentric woman.

She took a large gulp of her deep-red wine, almost downing the whole glass. "Well, when my coworker told me about her friend's hardworking oldest son, I pictured a handsome young man, with toned arms and at _least_ five foot eight."

He didn't like where she was going with this. _At all._

"Yes, yes, quite a handsome, _strong_ young man," she continued, oblivious to his discomfort. "So I told her, hey, I need someone to do some manly work at my house! Go call your friend's son over! I mean, she was _totally_ singing your praises."

"Well, you're not the young man I imagined." Way to be blunt. "Scrawny, unmanly, short, funny-looking..."

Now _that_ was just rubbing salt in the wound.

"...But then I really thought about it, and what I need for the job isn't a handsome guy with rippling biceps," she said, downing a final swig of her red wine as if it were a mug of beer. "I need a guy with _spunk._ An attitude. Some will power. And overall a good heart."

He wasn't sure he had all that, but he wasn't about to contradict her. The woman grinned at him, and for maybe the first time since he had met her, she seemed pleasantly amiable, albeit strong-minded.

"You ready to take on this job?"

He managed a shaky smile. "Sure, I guess."

The woman thrust out her hand, perfectly-manicured fingernails and all. He took it, and she shook it more violently than he would have preferred.

"Well, then, pleased to meet you, _Len Utatane._ I'm Meiko. Just plain Meiko. Your job is to serve and protect my little cousin, Rin Kagamine."

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><p>His family wasn't particularly wealthy, and he knew it. From his room that he shared with his younger brother, Piko, he would often stare wistfully out the window of their small, overcrowded house, dreaming of a world beyond.<p>

"You dream too much, bro," Piko would tell him, shaking his head and closing his unusual heterochromic eyes. "I may have inherited Mom's crazy silver hair, but you sure inherited her unrealistic dreams and ideals."

Piko was only one of his brothers, of course. He had five, all clambering around their little home. It wasn't rare that he would feel claustrophobic, lonely (despite the constant company), and drained. Though, at the same time, he felt a strong family bond. His mother was gone and his father not much of a housewife, so he did most of the things that they had lost when his mother died. Cooking, cleaning, sending the younger ones to their naptimes. Really, it was all quite exhausting.

He supposed Piko was right, though. He _was_ too much of a dreamer. And his silly dreamer self was why he had even bothered to appear for the job interview put up by his father's friend. It all seemed so exciting, despite the nervousness that coursed through his body when he thought of facing the prying questions that were bound to come.

In truth, he wanted to get away from their little house, the squalling little siblings and his cluttered room. Away from everything he had once known.

So, of course, the gigantic mansion that the job had to offer seemed so _tempting. _The house of the rich and famous Kagamines! Living there seemed like a paradise, even if he had to do a bit of dirty work. Besides, he already did enough back at home.

He supposed he was dreaming too much. What would his brothers do without him to take care of them? But he cast those thoughts aside; surely by now his father had picked up at least a _few_ mothering skills.

So he decided to go to the interview, despite the reasonable side of his brain screaming _no, no, Len Utatane, stop being so stupid! Your family can't survive without you!_ He thought that he wasn't going to be accepted anyway, with his unimpressive height and appearance. It didn't really _matter_, but it was worth a _try_, right?

And now here he was, playing with the collar of the fancy dress shirt Meiko had forced him into. Thinking back on the assignment the woman had given him, he was still quite appalled by the way she had put it. _Serving and protecting?_ What did she think he was, a knight? He had simply come to perhaps do some chores, tidy up the rooms, and listen to orders. But now Meiko was insisting he protect her cousin and take good care of her. He sighed. He supposed it wasn't too much to ask for, taking care of the girl.

The massive double doors stood fast in front of him, and for the second time he rang the bell of the mansion and waited. _One, two, three..._

With a magnificent creak, the doors opened, and Meiko was standing there, violently combing her short, brown hair with a leopard-patterned brush. Draped in a blood red cocktail dress, it wasn't hard for Len to assume she was going to a fancy party. But of course, she wasn't.

"Well, would you look at who's arrived!" the woman said, jerking the comb out of her hair with a final, violent stroke and placing her hands on her hips. He watched a tooth of the comb fall out of her hair and onto the ground. "If it isn't our darling _Len Utatane!"_

Before he could manage to say anything in reply, she waggled a finger in his direction. "You came at a good time, trooper. Rin isn't home right now. Off with that Miku Hatsune girl to spend some quality girl time. This way, I can get you all acquainted and suave before she comes home."

She paused. "Well, _come in!"_

Almost tripping over the dorky, smiling rug proudly displaying "WELCOME!" in bright red letters draped over the doorstep, he stumbled in. The doors slammed shut behind him.

As soon as the doors closed with a resounding _click_, Meiko whipped around, pressing her finger hard against his nose. He almost tripped, stumbling back a few paces. The woman walked forward threateningly, and he gulped for air nervously. What was with the sudden outburst?

"_Of course,_ Len Utatane, there are _guidelines,"_ the woman nearly cackled, flicking his cheek with her long, vibrant nails. "_Rules._ I won't abide with any funny business."

"Y-yes-"

"_One._ You will not enter Rin's room without knocking. You will always knock first and ask to be invited in." Meiko held up a single, slender finger, holding it right between his eyes. He cleared this throat nervously as her second finger raised up.

"_Two._ You will do your best to protect her, and keep her away from any danger so that no harm can come for her. You _will_ do so, even when it's impossible."

A third finger danced before his left eye. "_Three._ You will serve her if she asks you to, with no complaint. At all costs. That is your _job. _And you will not do anything she does not want you to do._"_

"_Four._ You will not assault her in any way, whether it be physically, mentally, or verbally. Any reports of this will have you gone in an _instant."_

_"Five._ You will never lie to her. _Never."_

The woman seemed to pause. "...And, lastly. _Six. _Don't try to get too close to her. Please. It's... for your own good."

And then her face cracked into a huge smile, with perfectly aligned white teeth and all. He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it, giving his back a good shove. "Well then, _Len Utatane!_ Enjoy your stay! For starters, I'll let you into her room. You can clean it up and all that."

"You can just call me Len, you know," he mumbled, barely audibly, doing his best to rub his back where her surprisingly strong hands had undoubtedly left marks.

"What was that, _Len Utatane?"_ she exclaimed, herding him forward with a hand on his back. "Up these stairs we go. And to the left. _And _to the right. And here we are!"

He glanced up, only to come face-to-face with a large set of doors. Geez, everything in this house just _had_ to be super extravagant and grand, didn't it? He had already almost tripped and fell upon climbing the slippery marble floors that wound upwards into the second floor.

"Keys, keys, keys. Where are the keys?" Meiko muttered, preening her hair with one hand and groping around her dress, which Len noted probably _didn't_ have pockets, with the other. Then, with a sudden epiphany, her hand flew to her neck.

"Oh, yes," she said, touching the little key on her necklace that seemed more fit for a pretty music box or diary. "This is the key to Rin's room. It's yours now."

She unclipped her necklace with careful hands, and then held out the little key, dangling before his eyes. He reached for it-

She jerked her hand back, eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, and, _Len Utatane._ Don't get any funny ideas. You'll only use these keys for _emergencies,_ and emergencies _only. Got it?"_

He swallowed nervously; this woman could be _scary_ as heck. But he pushed away his fears and nodded. He had to show respect for her, a woman of much higher status, a woman who had hired a lowly person like him with very little complaint (and he was pretty sure she knew what risks she was taking by hiring him).

"Turn around," she demanded, holding the two ends of the silver necklace in her two hands, gripping them between her index finger and thumb. He did so obediently, and she draped it around his neck, clipping it securely in the back. Then she slapped him on the back and smiled cheekily, gesturing him into the room.

"Enjoy your cleaning!" she chimed, standing outside, pale hand rested on the elegant curve of the doorknob. "Don't have too much fun, _Len Utatane,_ dear. The cleaning supplies are in the next room. Just head through the closet; it's connected to the guest room over to the side. There should be another closet that has _everything_ you need. Here's a duster, for starters."

And then, with a violent jerk of her hand, the door closed, leaving him alone in the room with nothing but an ostrich feather duster in his hands.


End file.
